


oh, fiddlesticks

by CaptainOzone



Series: Batfam Week 2018 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfam Week 2018, Gen, Humor, Jason's Lost It, Rated for Jason's Language, Tim is trying, Trolls will be trolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 00:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainOzone/pseuds/CaptainOzone
Summary: Jason's lost something, and Tim is there to help deal with the fallout.(Spoiler alert: he doesn't do a phenomenal job)Written for Day 1 of Batfam Week 2018: Separation or Vacation





	oh, fiddlesticks

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Separation or Vacation
> 
> I chose separation. 
> 
> And, just to switch things up and defy most expectations associated with a prompt as inherently angsty as "separation," this is borderline crack. Enjoy! :D

“C’mon, it’s not _that_ bad.”

Jason slowly raised his gaze from the mitt of bloody gauze and bandages covering his right hand and stared at Tim, his expression twisted into something resembling incredulous horror. “Fuck you, Replacement,” he cussed, voice strained. “This is a huge fucking deal.”

Tim was unimpressed, but he did understand how disorienting it could be to wake up in the Cave with no recollection of how you got there...but with plenty of injuries to mandate your presence in any case. Jason had also been out for nearly a day  _and_  had gotten the good stuff for his surgery. He was likely still very much out of it.

Tim understood. He’d been there. But even still, Jason was overreacting. Just a smidge.

Though, in retrospect, Tim supposed Jason's reaction wasn’t entirely unwarranted, considering the oversight they’d made. He tried to imagine how he would have reacted if he’d seen _his_ ring finger on ice right next to his bedside after waking up from a drug-induced sleep...and yeah, nope, he probably wasn’t the most appropriate choice to provide empathy. He’d woken up without a spleen once and had hardly batted an eye. He doubted he’d care much about a finger. 

Jason, however, was a very different person than he was. He seemed to care very much, and to be honest, it was pretty entertaining, in an awful kind of way. Seeing Jason freak out like this was a rare sight. Tim was truly blessed to bear witness.

“I mean it, Jay,” Tim said, leaning forward in his chair and placing his elbows on his knees. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, I _promise_.”

Jason’s horror did not abate. In fact, it was almost hilariously bordering on absolute distaste at this point, as though he couldn’t believe the vile things coming out of Tim’s mouth. “Replacement,” he said, his tone dead serious. “I was in quite a few explosions bigger than the one I was just caught in, and I may have been killed in one, but I never _once_ lost a fucking _finger, holy fucking_ shit! Mother-of-all—”

“At least it wasn’t your thumb!” Tim tried to reassure. “You would have had to _really_ alter your lifestyle in that case.”

“Oh, praise the _Lord_ , it wasn’t the thumb!” Jason mocked sarcastically, raising the pitch of his voice because he was a little shit like that. “Just a useless finger that used to be attached to your dominant hand, now blown to bits and sitting on ice on the other side of the room. No big deal, Jason. You only lost a piece of your _body,_ you good, bro.” At Tim’s quirked brow and far-too-carefully-composed face, Jason growled. “Are you kidding me, Tim?”

“I’m trying to highlight the bright side for you,” Tim pointed out patiently. “You'relucky, you know.”

“Lucky the fuck up didn’t end up losing more than a finger? Yeah, sure, I _suppose_.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re not a fuck up. But, as a general reminder: do you expect anything else but a lecture from Alfred or Bruce after the stunt you pulled?”

“Are you suggesting I was _asking_ to get my finger blown off, Timbo?” Jason asked, and there was a very unsubtle undercurrent of hostility there that once would have sent shivers down Tim’s spine. The threat of bodily harm was very much present, but Tim knew better than to believe Jason would act on it now. “Because if you are...”

“No, I’m just suggesting that it really could have been worse, I’m happy you’re alive, and you worry us with some of the shit you pull. That’s all.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed, as though hunting for a lie, before sighing and staring morosely at his bandaged hand. “This is so fucking _weird_.”

“Hey, if Wormtail could manage life without a finger, you can too,” Tim said.

Flinty blue eyes snapped back to him, and after a moment, Jason snorted weakly. “How long have you been waiting to use _that_ reference, you nerd?”

“Since we realized we needed to amputate the finger,” Tim said cheerfully.

“You’re a piece of—”

The sound of a motorcycle roaring into the Cave drowned whatever creative insult Jason was likely to have used on Tim, and both young men turned to greet the newcomer. Nightwing flung himself from the bike practically before it was fully parked, and he launched himself into the med bay, pulling his mask off as he went.

“Hey! I got here as soon as I could when I heard that—”

Dick stopped cold when his gaze landed on the lone, bloody finger chilling in its bath of ice, and Jason stiffened as Dick’s eyes slowly swept across the room and fixated on his mess of a right hand.

“Oh, _Jay_ ,” Dick murmured, his tone so sweetly empathetic, apologetic, and comforting it made Timfeel as though he was flossing with literal cotton candy just listening to it.

“Jesus, Dick,” Jason said quickly, and oh dear, did Tim sense a hint of _desperation_ there? “Get over yourself. I’m _fine_.”

As Dick flew across the way to suffocate Jason with his overbearing questions and care, Tim had to turn to hide his smile because well...that was certainly a different tune Jason was singing all of a sudden, wasn’t it? Over Dick’s shoulder, Jason sent Tim a glare of death, mouthing, _You better not breathe a damn_ word _._

The “ _or I will murder you in your sleep_ ” was more or less implied.

Tim just grinned more broadly and stood to his feet.

“I was supposed to get Alfred the moment Jason woke up,” Tim said, interrupting Dick’s tirade and Jason’s increasingly vehement assurances he _was fine, God, back the fuck off_. “I’ll be back.”

“Sure, we’ll catch up later, Timmy,” Dick agreed, already turning back to Jason, who would be seeking _revenge_ for leaving him alone with Dick, there was no denying.

Even still, Tim slipped back upstairs and felt extremely satisfied in doing so.

After all, the more Jason dug his heels in, the more he rejected Dick’s smothering and insisted he was fine, the sooner he’d believe it himself.


End file.
